


Driving Ron Weasley Mad

by Mamapotterhead2492



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamapotterhead2492/pseuds/Mamapotterhead2492
Summary: Hermione needs a wedding date to piss off her ex husband, Ron. What happens when she picks his worst enemy?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/ Hermione Granger
Comments: 14
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravenslight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenslight/gifts).



> This is a birthday drabble for RavensLight, and I really hope she enjoys it. A second chapter will likely come after she sees this. Sorry it's a couple days late Love! Happy Birthday!

"So what did you have in mind, Granger?" The blond asked.

"Well, Ron's brother George is getting married this weekend and I need a date, as I'm invited and still close with the rest of the family. I thought who would be the one date I could have that would completely make his blood boil over…" she trailed off. 

"And you decided on me. What's wrong, Krum wasn't available?" He chuckled.

"You will make Ron crazy with jealousy. So what do you say?" She asked. 

Weighing his options while staring at the chestnut haired woman who sat with one ankle on top of the other, leaning back so Draco could get a good view of the salaciously low neckline that her sundress boasted. 

Licking his lips, Draco smiled. The dress fit Granger perfectly. It was sleeveless, covered in cherries, and knee length.

"I'm in. How long do you need my services?" 

He asked. 

"The rehearsal is Friday, the wedding is Saturday, and the goodbye party is Sunday." 

"And what am I getting out of this?" 

Hermione smiled. Typical Draco, always a business man. 

"200 galleons, and a long running ad for Malfoy Industries in both my muggle periodical and the Daily Prophet."

Draco sat back and steepled his fingers. 

"How long running?" 

"Two years," she replied. 

"You can do that?" He asked. 

A sly smile answered him. 

"I'm the editor of the Daily Prophet, of course I can." 

Leaning forward, he offered her his hand. Taking it, their eyes met. 

"Looks like we have a deal." 

Hermione nodded. 

"Looks like we do indeed." 

Six Days Later….

Hermione waited patiently outside her Diagon Alley flat for her companion to arrive. When he did, he grabbed her suitcase, a silent offer to carry it. Handing him a golden pocket watch, they began to spin. 

Touching down again, Draco heard the loud shouts and cheers and jeers coming from a large, fabric white tent that had been raised beside the incredibly crooked house… if it could be called that. Turning to look at Hermione, she smiled, grabbed his hand, and dragged him into the festivities. 

When they entered the tent, Molly found Hermione right away and strode proudly over to her. 

"Hermione," she began, pulling the woman into a tight bear hug, "you made it! I'm so glad, Rosie is outside playing with Albus and James. You two will be sleeping in one of the accommodations Arthur conjured for all of our family and friends. Go on, just on the other side of the tent. I'm happy to see you both." 

Walking in the general direction that Molly had gestured, they were greeted by many people, Weasleys and otherwise. Ron had yet to appear. They made it out of the main event tent, and into the two story brick faced building with an orange shingled roof, that Molly had designated the 'Guest House'. Here they ran into Harry, who told them their room was on the second floor. What they didn't expect was...


	2. Chapter 2

"One. Bed. What the bloody hell is Molly playing at?! One bed?" Hermione was fuming. 

Draco smiled, dropping their bags on the window seat that provided a view of the main house. Turning towards her, he grabbed her shoulders and began to massage them. Tensing slightly, she peeked over her shoulder and warm amber eyes, met cool cerulean ones. 

"I was just trying to help you relax, sorry."

Hermione turned back to the bed, nodding sheepishly. 

"Thank you. That's the nicest thing someone has done for me in a while."

He watched as her back muscles tensed at a painful memory. Erring on the side of caution and sitting on the window seat, he surveyed the room around her. Adorning the light blue walls were paintings and against the far wall was an ornate cherry free-standing wardrobe. 

"You know, the bed-sharing might not be so bad, Hermione," he said, his eyes traveling toward the misshapen house. 

Hermione turned to him, confused. 

"What do you mean?" She asked. 

He took this opportunity to stand again, teasing her with a silent smirk that she couldn't read, as he nodded his head to the window. 

"Which room did you say was Weasley's?" 

Hermione walked to the window with him at her heels and pointed to the very top of the house. 

"The bedroom at the top of the stairs, with bars on the windows, why?" She asked. 

Draco reached his fingers up to brush the hair away from her neck and whispered, "I could make you scream my name so loud that he will hear it all the way up to his room," and pressed his lips delicately to her pulse point, "if only you'd let me." 

Shivering, Hermione looked back at him. 

"Draco, my daughter is here, I… so many of my close friends are here. I have an image to uphold," she deflected. 

Draco smirked and kissed her pulse point again. 

"Don't you think whatever 'image' there was to uphold got shattered when you showed up with lady's man and millionaire bachelor extraordinaire, Draco Malfoy? Show that tosser just what he's missing," he replied exhaling an invisible line down the nape of her neck. 

"Perhaps. But…" 

"Dress in another delectable sundress that shows just the right amount of skin, let me be on your arm, and let me show him how to really treat a lady." 

Hermione turned fully to face him at that last comment. 

"Lady?... Not mudblood?" Her eyes searched his. 

"No, not mudblood. I respect you far more now than I did then as my intellectual superior," he replied, cupping her chin. 

Hermione wanted to cry at the sweet sentiment. Just as she was about to reply, a knock rang out. 

"Yes?" She called. 

"Hermione, it's Harry. It's almost time for the rehearsal dinner," Harry replied. 

"We will be right down. Can you pop in on Rose and make sure she's ready please?" 

"Uncle Harry to the rescue," he called, meaning he would make sure Rose was ready.

When they descended on the tent, a four foot tall, smiling, ginger-haired girl nearly took Hermione down by her knees. 

"MUUUUUMMMMYYYYYYY! MUMMY MUMMY MUMMY MUMMY!!! YOU MADE IT!" The exuberant six year old screeched. 

She ignored Draco's presence when she greeted her mother. 

"Of course I was going to make it. I wouldn't miss Uncle George and Auntie Angelina's wedding for the world. Besides, I missed my favorite little girl. Cant let your dad keep you too long," she winked, embracing the little girl. 

When her daughter pulled away it hit Hermione just how perfectly a blend of her and Ron that Rosie was. She had Hermione's features, but Ron's hair and freckles, closely resembling her Aunt Ginny. 

"Mumma! Aunt Ginny took me flying!" The small girl continued, her eyes growing wide with excitement. 

Hermione peeled her eyes away from her daughter for a moment and smiled up at Draco, rolling her eyes, causing him to chuckle. 

"She did? Wow that sounds amazing. You know, Mummy's friend Draco flies too. His son, Scorpius is on a junior Quidditch league," Hermione continued. 

Draco nodded, reaching out his hand to the small girl. Rose took it without question, fearing her mother would reprimand her for improper manners. When she did, Draco turned it palm down and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. 

"Draco Malfoy, pleased to meet you Miss Rose."

Rose popped one of her hips out, flipped her bright red hair so that it shone in the sunlight, and gave him a haughty look. When her eyes momentarily floated back to her mother, her posture changed. The stance, before she had corrected herself, reminded him eerily of her mother. 

"Rose Jean Granger-Weasley. Pleasure to meet you Mister Malfoy. Hey, did you by chance go to school with Mummy and Daddy? Dad's always swearing on some Malfoy name." 

Hermione interjected then, putting up her pointer finger in warning. Rose ignored her this time. 

Draco chuckled, bent down to her level and smiled at the small girl, nodding. 

"That would be me. Truth is, in our Hogwarts days I was a right little git to your Mum and Dad, pardon my French. So I can understand why he swears me. But, you know, people grow, and they change. I'm a different person now." 

Hermione blushed and tried to hide her embarrassment at her daughter's cheek. 

"Okay. Well, bye Mister Draco, Mummy. I'm going to go see if Aunt Ginny needs any help," she replied before bounding away from them. 

When Draco turned back to look at Hermione, her hand was still covering her face. 

"I am so sorry!" She mumbled. 

Grabbing her hand, Draco laced their fingers and squeezed gently. 

"Hermione, it's fine. I think it's cute. She reminds me of her mum. Now, come on, let's go see if it's time for dinner," he chimed in, pulling her toward a different tent. 

An hour or so later, George and Angelina had rehearsed the processional for their wedding, Rose beaming with pride as she tossed faux violet petals at either side of the aisle, and it was time to eat. As Hermione and Draco sat at their assigned seats, a red eared Ron stormed his way over them. 

"What the bloody hell, is he doing here?" He asked through clenched teeth. 

Hermione grabbed Draco's unoccupied right hand and held it. 

"Well, Ronald, if you must know, we've been seeing each other for a few weeks now, and when George and Angelina invited me, it was a natural decision," she answered, her words dripping with sarcasm.

"You introduced him to our daughter, and are parading him around in front of my family like he's a trophy. It's despicable." Her ex husband's words intended to bite. 

"I hadn't intended on introducing him to Rosie yet, but when we came down to see if Mum needed any help, she ambushed me. She hasn't seen me in a week, Ron, what do you expect? She missed me. I couldn't help that he was with me when she spotted me. And Mum already knew about Draco and I, so did George. Angelina is the one who set us up," she interjected even though she shouldn't have to explain herself. 

"She's not your Mum, she's mine. Have some respect, and call her Molly. And if you had come alone, Rose wouldn't have met your flavor of the hour." 

Hermione rolled her eyes and was about bbn to reply when Molly strode up behind Ron and placed her hands on his shoulders. 

"Now, now, Ron. She is the mother of your daughter, and your son, may he rest in peace, she will always be family. She will always be my daughter. Why don't you go help Harry with the drinks? Wonderful. Bye-bye. Now, Hermione, Draco, enjoy yourselves. I'm glad you came," Molly intervened. 

Hermione smiled at the woman who had been like a mother to her for as long as she had known her, and nodded her thanks. Noticing the shimmering blue satin frock Molly wore, she replied, 

"By the way, Mum, you look astounding tonight." 

Molly beamed. 

"Thank you sweetheart. Enjoy your dinner, and the rest of the evening. I'll see you tomorrow," she replied, waving as she walked toward the bride-to-be. 

Spending the rest of the night celebrating jovially, they dined on all of George's homemade favorites, courtesy of Molly, and danced until nearly midnight. The children had all retired to their rooms, and only the adults were left. 

As Hermione was taking off her shoes to walk to their room, Ron approached her again. Draco had been exchanging goodnight's with George and Harry, and hadn't noticed Ron turning up.

Placing her heels on the table, she winced when Ron grabbed her arm roughly. 

"You, inside now. We need to talk about you disrespecting me." 

Hermione attempted to pull away, but he held on, turning her flesh angry, pinching it. 

"Let her go, Weasley," came a voice from a few yards away. 

"Mind your business, Malfoy. This is between my wife and I," Ron retorted. 

"Ex, wife, if I remember correctly." 

Letting go of Hermione's arm finally, Ron turned toward Draco. 

"That's none of your business." 

Draco took another step closer to the angry redhead, a smug smirk ever present on his face. 

"Actually," he replied, rubbing his right hand up and down the back of his neck, "It is, see, because, she's my girlfriend, mate and I don't fancy how you're touching her." 

Ron laughed, his bellows echoing in the open night air. 

"I could give a blast ended skrewt's arse what you say." 

Striding in the direction of his childhood foe, Ron effected a confidence that Draco and Hermione both knew he didn't possess. When he closed in on Draco, he drew his wand, pointing it at the blond, while several guests and other family members cast their own in Ron's direction. 

"RONALD BILLIUS WEASLEY! Inside, now!" Molly's voice rang out from the kitchen door. 

Ron gazed in his mother's direction, unfazed. 

"Not right now, Mum."

Molly, too, was unfazed. 

"Ronald. Inside." 

Slouching his shoulders in defeat, Ron turned away from Draco. 

"Fine, coming Mum." 

When her son was safely away from endangering her ex daughter-in-law and her new boyfriend, Molly turned back toward them. 

"Hermione, Draco, enjoy your evening. Rosie's all tucked into bed, she'll see you in the morning. Embrace the quiet before the madness returns to your threshold," Molly winked in Hermione's direction. 

And with her ex mother-in-law's blessing, she and Draco walked hand in hand away from the lights and dying noises of the party. 


End file.
